Chapter 2:

The room he was standing in was very small indeed. Two of its walls were lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, all full with more books stacked sideways on top of them. The wall behind him with the door held a large window with a bench beneath it. The last wall had an archway that led to what appeared to be a kitchen and another door, he assumed must lead to a bedroom. He could only conjecture, however, because it was closed. She disappeared through the archway, leaving him to inspect her home at his leisure, a gesture that reminded him that she not only knew him entirely too well, but also trusted him to peruse the things she most closely surrounded herself with. He turned his attention back to the living room or study that he was in. In the corner, there was a fire blazing in the fireplace with two tall wing backed chairs before it, and a small table between them, also piled with books. The chairs were flanked by discarded novels and bits of parchment. Wherever a novel couldn't fit on a shelf, it was stacked along with others like it. There were stacks in front of the bookcases, here and there about the room, on top of or alongside each bit of furniture. Glancing over once such tower close to him, he lifted several old tomes to reveal a number of folded star charts, an ancient map covered with runes that was so musty and old he set it down immediately for fear of it disintegrating in his hands. As he made his way through the literature littering the room, he stopped before one of the massive bookshelves. It surprised him to find it had been meticulously placed in alphabetical order. Even the titles wedged into the empty spaces were alphabetical. There didn't appear to be any organization by genre, however, which interested him. He had unthinkingly set down his glass to take a better look at some of the titles, when he heard her again sneak up behind him. She lifted the glass and placed a coaster beneath it.

"You don't drink scotch anymore, Snape?"

"Its 6 o'clock, Medean."

Ignoring him, she sank into one of the high backed chairs, folding her legs in front of her and resting her chin on her knees. "How was the journey here?"

"Uneventful. The lane to get here was-," he struggled to find the right word, "-charming." That wasn't what he had meant at all. Miserable, bleak, freezing- all would have been accurate descriptions in his mind, but insulting her when she was being so hospitable would have been truly detestable.

"I was surprised that you chose to walk that far, and in a chill like this morning's."

"And I was equally surprised to find no warding around your home. Had I known you would be so lax in your security, I might have apparated into this very room."

"Warding is how they found a great deal of us after the fall. I have not forgotten, even after all this time and there are some things that I would prefer not to explain if they would decide to raid my home."

He was unsure as to whether her reference to 'they' meant Death Eaters or the Ministry. Either way, he imagined they could both find questionable things that would be awkward for her to explain. As he stood before the bookcase, she watched him with her head tilted to one side. Her pitifully short hair fell over one of her stormy eyes ending just above the tip of her nose. She appeared to be sleeker than when he had last seen her. He supposed that it might have been the decade that had passed since he had last seen her. Or perhaps her year long stay in Azkaban had thinned her out. Her clothing was bland and although it could not be described as tight, it seemed to highlight the curves of her body in a way that he was forcing himself to ignore. He hastily strode to the empty chair and lowered himself into it. She uncurled herself, retrieved his glass from the shelf and set it and the coaster atop the books on the table. As she set the lowball on the precarious pile, he let his eyes glide down the soft weave of her hastily pushed up sweater sleeve, over the pale expanse of exposed forearm, pausing momentarily at the all too familiar skull and serpent tattoo before continuing down her slender fingers. Instead of ending at the offered scotch glass, as intended, his attention was caught by the thin band of gold that encircled her third finger. His brow knit and his eyes instantly went to hers. She steadily returned his gaze until he turned away from her.

Rather than returning to the chair, she picked her way across the room, opened the door that had been closed and turned back to him. "I must apologize, I hadn't anticipated your arrival and am obligated to leave you on your own for a while. Make yourself at home when I am gone. I've laid out towels and there are clean linens on the bed. However long your traveling has been, I am sure you must be tired. The kitchen is just through the arch. I will be back in several hours." As she made this speech, she was wrapping herself back in the cloak and pulling on thick mittens. She clunked into her heavy boots. "Here, Pollux." The excitable dog came barreling out of the kitchen to her side and they were gone into the brightening morning.

He was left to ponder if she really had an engagement, or if what had passed between them had been awkward enough to necessitate her departure. Snape shook his head, thinking of what a bad idea it had been to have stayed after he had delivered the letter. She hadn't been anything but polite about his being there, however, and he soon convinced himself that she must have had a prior obligation. Perhaps she had forgotten the past and put it behind her. They were now, evidently, indifferent acquaintances. Although he was perplexed about the ring. While he pondered, he picked up the glass, swirled its contents, raised it to his lips and downed it in one gulp. He placed it back on its coaster and went to the open door.

A lamp was glowing from a vanity across the room. He poured water from a ceramic pitcher into a small basin and cleaned himself up a bit. Feeling refreshed, he removed the terrible sweater and tossed it over the back of the chair containing her neatly folded towels. He yanked off his boots and socks, kicking them beside that same chair. Pulling back the sheets and blanket, he fell onto the wonderfully soft pillows and was immediately engulfed in the aroma of her. It was fresh, clean, slightly floral with an earthy undertone. She had smelled like that since she was young. He drifted immediately into an exhausted, heavy sleep.